


Regular Customer

by easilydistractedbyfanfic



Series: S7 Countdown - 5 Days of Murven Fics [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Drunkenness, Background Relationships, Cussing, F/M, Flirting, Minor Character(s), flirting with food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:20:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24249445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/easilydistractedbyfanfic/pseuds/easilydistractedbyfanfic
Summary: At first, Murphy's annoyed with the customer who wants to tweak his recipe, always placing their online order with specific instructions. But once he sees her, he's not so irritated anymore. Too bad the lunch rush keeps him practically chained in the restaurant kitchen and prevents him from talking to her whenever she comes in to pick up her order. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Relationships: John Murphy/Raven Reyes
Series: S7 Countdown - 5 Days of Murven Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1748824
Comments: 11
Kudos: 70





	Regular Customer

**Author's Note:**

> Well, it's not TECHNICALLY Day 3 of my countdown since I'm so late, but it's still the third story in my s7 Countdown series. Ah, well. Life happens. Have another story! Throw me a bone and tell me if ya liked it - kudos and comments keep the muse happy!  
> Stay sane & healthy my fellow Murven fans!

* * *

He makes the order twice before he catches a glimpse of the customer it’s for. On the third day in a row that the lunch order shows up in his queue, he knows it’s the same person ordering since they’ve been adding the same note to their online purchase. Always ‘No Broccoli, Extra Lime’ on the yellow curry shrimp bowl, and an iced mango green tea. To go. Which, okay, whatever. If you ask him the broccoli is a necessary ingredient, but what does he know, he’s only the chef. He’s spent an insane amount of time planning the menu for the natural, organic restaurant he and a few friends opened going on two years ago, and it still bugs him when customers want to change the ingredients in the dishes they feature. 

Monty tells him he’s being ridiculous, that people like what they like and there’s no reason to be upset by it. Echo tells him to shut the fuck up or she’ll give him something _real_ to stress out about, smiling like she’s kidding, but he knows she’s really not. She always finds ways to get her revenge, and he’s man enough to admit that crossing her is rarely a smart move. Especially since she’s in charge of payroll. 

Still, even in the busy lunch rush, he finds himself rolling his eyes as he shakes the saute pan, cooking the shrimp until they’re just the right color. When he’s finished, he returns to the prep area, but the container of limes is missing. That only makes him more irritated, because he’d put his money on Echo and Octavia taking it to the bar to use in whatever mixed-drink-of-the-evening scheme they’d come up with last night. It wasn’t the first time ingredients had disappeared from his kitchen and turned up in the bar area, so he calls out to Monroe to keep an eye on the stove and stalks through the door of the kitchen and out into the corner of the main restaurant, going behind the sleek bar counter to track the limes down. As expected, he finds the bin in the garnish fridge, but since he’s out of the kitchen for a change, he takes a moment to look around in satisfaction. He made the right decision when he listened to his gut and invested with Monty and Echo in this place. 

There’s an impressive crowd filling the tables, and the to-go section is keeping Harper busy as she fetches bags and rings up customers. All in all, Green Is Good is booming, and it’s hard to be annoyed in the face of their success. He’s about to turn around and head back into the kitchen when the main door opens and a gust of fierce wind blows in, bringing with it one of the most attractive women he’s ever seen. She struggles with the door for a moment before she manages to push it closed, and he takes advantage of her inattention, raking his eyes from the top of her dark hair to the tip of her black steel-toe boots. And everything in between. Change that to _the_ most attractive woman he's ever seen. He definitely likes what he sees. 

Pushing her tangled long hair out of her face and over her shoulder, the woman walks up to the register, smiling at Harper politely. It’s possible he starts to drool a little as he strains his ears, wanting to hear the sound of her voice. 

“Hi, thanks for coming to Green Is Good. How can I help you?” Harper asks. 

“Picking up a take out order for Raven, thank you.”

Harper scans the bags under the heat lamp. “Should only be another minute or two,” she explains, and the dream girl named Raven nods sweetly and moves off to the side under the windows to wait. 

Fuck, she’s hot. Really hot. It’d be weird if he walks up and randomly introduces himself, but he wants to do it anyway, wants to see her eyes up close and have her smile at him. He wants to know her full name, if she’s single, how she got that brace on her leg and if she’s okay and does she want to go out with him or skip right to making out first. He gets part way past the bar, no real plan in place, but he’s stopped by Monroe and her accusatory glare. 

“Yo, Bossman Murphy. You know the kitchen falls apart without you, so get your ass in here or we’ll never catch up in time for the dinner rush.”

He sighs, knowing Monroe’s right. If he doesn’t hurry, the shrimp for ‘No Broccoli, Extra Lime’ will get cold and he’ll have to make more. He throws a last, longing glance at Raven over his shoulder, and as he walks underneath one of the speakers installed in the ceiling that plays annoying background music all day long, he can hear Mick Jagger singing about how he can’t get no satisfaction. Story of his life. 

* * *

Returning to the kitchen, he rushes to finish the yellow curry bowl, deftly chopping and squeezing extra lime over the jasmine rice and adding a few oversize wedges as garnish. He’s about to pass off the container to an assistant who will pack it into a bag before placing it under the pick-up heat lamps for Harper to hand out, but his eyes flick over the printed order briefly as he sticks it to the lid. He rarely pays attention to anything on the slip except for the dishes he needs to cook and any special instructions, but there it is, in bold lettering mid-way down the form. 

**Raven Reyes**

The dream girl out front is his Yellow Curry Shrimp Bowl, No Broccoli and Extra Lime. Holy shit. And she’s been ordering the same thing for three days in a row, which means she might come back and he could get another chance to talk to her. Something inside of him is screaming with the need to get her attention in any way he can. He looks at his watch, taking note of the time. She hasn’t been waiting too long for her food based on the timestamp on the order slip, so he waves away the assistant and takes the container back to his prep area. He can be fast. A few moments later, a miniature rose carved from a carrot with a lime peel stem adorns the top of the curry bowl. There’s no time to talk to her today, but maybe this will make her smile. And encourage her to come back soon. 

* * *

He’s disappointed when her order doesn’t appear during the madness of the lunch crowd the next day, and he wonders if she just wanted a change from eating the same thing for three days solid or if there was another reason. Didn’t seem like something as innocuous as his little carrot flower would be enough to send her packing, but he doesn’t have a lot of time to be curious about it when he’s so busy. He ends up staying late when one of the other cooks calls out sick, which gives him a chance to lecture Octavia about how she can’t keep taking his food supplies for her bar drinks, not that he thinks she’ll actually listen. 

It’s late when he gets back to his house, but he thinks about her before he drifts off to sleep. Raven Reyes. It’s a nice name. He wonders if it’d be stalkerish to google her. He’ll ask Monroe tomorrow. 

* * *

The order comes in again. Same instructions as usual - 'No Broccoli, Extra Lime.’ This time his eyes flick right to the name, wanting to be sure. Yep. Raven Reyes, right on schedule. The restaurant is crazy hectic though, they’re slammed with customers, and he knows there’s no chance he can take even ten minutes to lurk around waiting for her to pick up her lunch. This time he makes a chili pepper flower that looks like a spider chrysanthemum. Monroe sees him slicing it, sending him a scowl like he’s fooling around while she’s busy working, but he supposes being the boss should give him a few perks and ignores her. He can’t flirt in person, at least he hasn’t thought of a way to yet, so he’ll work with what he’s got. 

The rest of the afternoon he pictures the way she smiled at Harper the day he first saw her. Yeah, she’s hot as hell, but something about her makes him think he’s meant to know who she is. 

* * *

The flower garnishes start to get more complicated over the next two weeks, and her pattern emerges. She orders every day of the work week except Thursdays. If he was a normal employee, he could arrange to bump into her on his day off in the front of the restaurant or something. But even though Green Is Good is doing great, as a part owner he’s there every day in some capacity, and as the head chef he doesn’t like giving up control anyway, so he’s always checking in to make sure the kitchen is running smoothly. Other than a few glimpses when she briefly runs in to pick up her food, he doesn’t get the opportunity to do anything but fantasize about her. At least that’s been going well. Really fucking well, honestly. 

He runs approximately eighteen different scenarios by Monroe, to see how he could arrange meeting Raven without coming off as a creeper, but Monroe shuts down every one of them, including his urge to look her up online. Monroe says he should just work a couple shifts at the register during lunch hour so that he can be the one ringing Raven up, starting out with some friendly banter and maybe transitioning to some questions designed to see if she’s single and interested in a date with him. It makes sense, but until they can hire another chef on the lunch shift, he can’t leave them short-handed. According to Echo, they’re about two months away from being able to afford another full-time cook who can straddle the weekly lunch and dinner shifts. He’s not sure he can wait another two months to talk to Raven, so he steps up his game. 

It’s not hard to convince Monty that huge batches of homemade organic fortune cookies will add to their aesthetic, the goal being to give them away as a customer appreciation thing. It’s harder to convince Echo, but once he crunches the numbers and presents her with a list spelling out the pros and cons, he convinces her that he’s done his homework and she’s willing to try it out since it’s cost effective. If either of them knew he’d put this much effort in simply to find a way to flirt with one of their customers, they’d probably - no, definitely - never let him live it down, but that’s exactly why he does it. They order a ton of pre-printed fortunes to slip inside, but he makes his own when it comes to what goes in Raven’s lunch orders. Mostly quotes or sayings that will make her grin or laugh, but he throws in general compliments sometimes too, telling her she’s beautiful or that she has the kind of smile people fall in love with. He doesn’t want other people to fall in love with that smile though. Only him. 

Her lunch orders keep coming in, but one day she puts a smiley face made out of an equal sign and a parenthesis after her ‘No Broccoli, Extra Lime’ instructions, and that becomes her habit too. Murphy feels like she’s saying thanks directly to him, and the mental countdown in his head to when he can hire someone new so he can start to talk to her slowly ticks away. 

* * *

They’re approaching Green Is Good’s second anniversary, and he decides throwing a party in the backyard of his house is how he wants to celebrate. They close the restaurant for the first time ever on a Saturday night so everyone can come, and all the invitations they gave their employees informs them they can bring a partner or friend, but that it’s adults-only since they’ll be providing alcohol. Murphy spends a big chunk of the week preparing a buffet spread, and the day of the party is hectic but setup goes well and quicker than he expects since he did most of the work beforehand. He ends up starting to drink early, and he’s well on his way to being pleasantly buzzed when the first guests arrive. 

His house isn’t huge, but the backyard is, and he has a big deck. He inherited it after his dad died, and he’s since made a few changes to modernize and update his childhood home, especially the kitchen. He’s proud of it, and even Monroe says something nice when he shows her around. She also insults him because he’s half-drunk at his own party, but he’s too intoxicated to do anything but laugh, and anyway, what does he care if some of his coworkers see him letting his hair down. He’ll go back to being in control on Monday but for now it’s nice to feel so relaxed.

And that’s exactly how he continues to feel about it, until he sees Echo come through the sliding doors on the deck followed by none other than Raven Reyes. The dream girl he’s been unable to stop thinking about for weeks. At his party. In his house. When he’s practically incapable of thinking clearly. 

“Shit,” he mutters, burning his fingers on the grill he’s tending due to his inattention. 

Harper looks over in concern as he shakes his hand, trying to release the sting. He can tell she’s about to make a fuss, so he waves her off. “It’s fine.”

She wrinkles her forehead, not so eager to brush it off if he’s hurt, but then she spots Echo talking to a few people and excitedly claps her hands. “Oh, look! Echo brought Raven. She moved into Echo’s apartment building a few months back, and she’s become a regular during our lunch hour. We’ll have to make sure to introduce you to her - you make her lunch practically every day, did you know that? She’s really nice. She figured out what was wrong with Monty’s car just by me describing the problem.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Echo knows her? They live in the same building and he’s had no idea. And Harper feels like she knows Raven enough to introduce him? What the actual fuck. 

Misinterpreting his words, Harper hurries to reassure him. “No, I’m serious. She knows a ton about cars! Echo says she’s too modest about it, but Raven is a partner in a company that owns multiple garages. She moved to Arkadia to oversee a new one opening up.”

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Murphy says under his breath, feeling stunned. Maybe he’s had more to drink than he thought. 

“I’m gonna go talk to her,” Harper declares. “Raven gave us a friends and family discount when she fixed our car, so you make sure you’re nice when you meet her, Murphy. I mean it!”

Christ. He’s been trying to find fifteen minutes to talk to this woman practically every fucking day for weeks and can’t catch a break, and meanwhile one of his business partners and his wife is getting a god-damned friends and family discount, and the other business partner lives in the same damned building and knows her well enough to bring her to his party. Un-fucking-believeable. 

His eyes narrow though, as he turns his body so he can watch both the grill and the people gathered on the deck. It’d be just like Echo to bring Raven as her date, and the possibility makes his stomach clench. He’s got to find a way to ask even though his head is spinning, both from the alcohol he’s imbibed and the shock that Raven is actually _here_. Standing on his deck with a drink in her hand and that smile he’s thought about so much. Shit, she looks hot. 

* * *

There’s enough people at the party that he successfully avoids interacting with her for almost an hour, hastily throwing back multiple bottles of water in an effort to sober up. It doesn’t feel like it works, but Monroe hunts him down while he’s hiding in his garage guzzling the stuff, regarding him curiously as she grabs another box of beer to refill the coolers. 

“Hey. A few of the employees who’re working tomorrow aren’t going to stay much later. I know you said you have some frozen desserts and stuff planned, so maybe you should bring them out if you want everyone to have some before they leave.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Dessert is literally the last thing on his mind, but he does have a few things already portioned out except for the last minute touches. Probably should serve them unless he wants to be stuck eating them all. 

“What’s with you? You’re weirder than usual,” Monroe accuses. 

He scowls. Monroe will find it hilarious, but since she already knows he’s been dying to meet the infamous Raven, he might as well tell _someone_ what’s going on. 

“She’s here. ‘No Broccoli, Extra Lime’. _Here_. Like literally outside on my deck, here. Echo fucking brought her, like on a _date_ maybe.”

It’s a wonder Monroe doesn’t start rolling around on the floor, she laughs so hard. 

“Yeah, it’s real funny,” Murphy drawls. “I’ve only been wracking my brain trying to figure a way to ask her out for what feels like ages, and now maybe one of my own friends has beat me to it.”

“Fuck, Murphy. You got some real crappy luck,” Monroe huffs out, barely managing to pull herself together as she wipes tears from the corner of her eyes. 

“Don’t I know it.” He groans, loud and uncaring who might hear him, and then looks at Monroe with a sigh. “If you take those beers out, I’ll head to the kitchen and prep one of the trays of Tipsy Affogato. When you come back in, you can take it to the people who are leaving while I bring out some of the other desserts. After that I’ll do the rest of them.”

She nods, picking up the box of beers again, and he holds the door open for her to pass through first. 

He’s got tumblers of the natural vanilla bean ice cream already portioned out in the freezer, and all he has to do is add the brewed coffee and Frangelico, and top them with the butter cookie bits. Pulling out a tray of about twenty from the restaurant-sized professional freezer in his kitchen, he quickly gets to work, still feeling the effects of the vodka from earlier. It’s not as bad as before, but he still feels like he’s not capable of handling a conversation with Raven just yet. Maybe he’ll be up for it before she leaves, but he doesn’t have a plan, and he’s _definitely_ not ready for her to find out that he’s the one who has been adding all the little extras to her lunch order every week. This wasn’t supposed to be how it happened, how he’d introduce himself, and now he has no idea how to proceed. 

The next few moments are a blur, but in the scant seconds after he picks up the tray of finished frozen desserts, an unexpected voice loudly calls his name from close behind him, and he whirls around more quickly than he should with a precarious tray of glassware balanced in his hands. The tray bumps right into his dream girl, tilting forward towards her chest and spilling its contents all over her before crashing to the floor, the sound of glass breaking and an indignant shriek filling the kitchen. It’s quickly followed by multiple groans and shouts. 

“Murphy, you asshole!” That one comes from Echo, and he's pretty sure it was her trying to get his attention to start with. 

“Aww, fuck. _Really_? Are you fucking kidding me right now?” That’s his contribution, though it’s a wonder he manages to speak at all considering how shocked he is. 

“Oh my god!” 

That one comes from Raven herself, and now that he’s finally close, he can see that her pretty brown eyes have flecks of gold in them. She’s not smiling though, and his throat feels like it’s closing up as he takes in the state of her. She’s got globs of white ice cream, streaks of sticky Frangelico and brown coffee all over her neck, her V-neck green shirt, on her bare arms and running down to the top of her pants. Here and there he can see crumbs from the cookies. She looks fucking delicious, and he immediately starts thinking about licking it all off her until Echo ruins his fantasy. 

“Raven, meet Murphy. Murphy, this is my new neighbor, Raven. I brought her because she already knows a few people from the restaurant since she’s become a regular customer, and I mistakenly thought she might have fun. But once again, I have overestimated your charm.”

Echo smirks at him for just a moment before turning to Raven, and her voice softens. “Are you okay? Did any glass cut you?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Raven answers, looking down at herself and twisting her body carefully as she examines the damage. “I’m just cold and sticky.”

Yeah. It probably makes him a pervert for noticing, but he can tell she’s cold from the way her nipples have hardened beneath her shirt. Shit, all the nights of imagining her naked are _not_ helping right now, but all he can do is stare at her. 

“Damn, Murphy. What is the _matter_ with you? Can you show some concern, can you show her to your shower and get something for her to change into?” Echo looks at him in disapproval. “Raven, why don’t you let Murphy get a t-shirt for you or something and once you rinse off, I can drive us back home.”

“Okay, that sounds good.”

Raven looks up at him expectantly, and the full force of her eyes on him is overwhelming. She’s so gorgeous he feels tongue-tied, and usually he considered himself half-way decent with women but this is something else entirely. It’s like he’s nervous and excited and turned on and embarrassed all at once, and the remaining alcohol coursing through his system makes it all the more potent. 

“Uh, yeah,” he mumbles, “I’ll show you my bedroom. I mean, bathroom.” He takes a breath and tries again. “I’ll get you some clothes and you can have a shower in my bathroom, but it’s _through_ my bedroom.”

He sees Raven send a cautious glance to Echo. Christ, this first impression sucks. 

“Don’t worry,” Echo snarks. “He’s an idiot, not an axe-murderer. And Murphy, I’ll start cleaning this up if you tell me where to find a broom or vacuum.”

He lets her know, adding that Monroe will be heading in soon to help with dessert, and that she knows how to finish off the ice cream since there’s plenty more in the freezer, but then Raven shivers next to him so he quits talking, figuring they’ll have to handle it as he gestures for her to follow him. 

They go down the hallway to his bedroom, and he still can’t believe this is happening. Thank god he made his fucking bed. They walk through the bedroom door but he hurries to the bathroom first, grabbing a clean towel from the rack and pushing it into her hands as she walks in behind him.

“Here. There’s soap and stuff in there. You’ve kinda got some...stuff,” he points at the ends of her hair, “in your hair too. So you might wanna wash it.”

“Thanks for the head’s up,” Raven drily remarks. “You know, you haven’t exactly apologized yet.” It sounds like there’s a note of accusation in her tone, and this is so fucking far from how he’d wanted things to go between them that he goes on the offensive, snapping back at her.

“If you weren’t standing right behind the damn freezer door, this wouldn’t have happened!” He regrets it as soon as he says it, because he feels even worse as her eyes go wide, and he thinks maybe he misread her and she was teasing instead of intentionally blaming him. 

“Is that so?” Now she’s definitely not teasing, her eyes sparking with irritation. “Well in that case, just get me some clothes to change into and I’ll get the hell out of your way.”

Fuck, he’s the worst. This is a disaster of epic proportions. 

“Wait here,” he instructs, but it’s not like she’s going anywhere as he ducks back into his bedroom, rifling through his drawers for a suitable t-shirt and pants. He picks one of his favorite shirts, a baby blue one that’s soft and a little faded, and a pair of gray sweatpants that tie at the waist. When he returns to the bathroom, wary, she’s standing beside his tub, clutching the hem of her shirt to try and prevent any more drips from falling to the floor. He can see a little bit of the smooth skin of her stomach, and her feet are bare, toes painted a dusty pink. 

His mouth goes dry. He’s just about positive this is one of the worst days of his life. 

Almost shoving the clothes at her in his frustration, he tries to step back quickly, her eyes still glaring at him. But this time his hand brushes hers and the spark is immediate, flaring under his skin like tiny flames. She pulls her hand away in what looks like surprise, her eyes widening as she looks up at him.

“I’ll hang an empty bag on the outside of the bathroom door so you can put your dirty clothes inside. I’ll pay for it if they need to be cleaned or anything.” He pulls the door shut quickly behind him, not giving her a chance to reply. Honestly he can’t bear it going any worse than it already has, especially now that he knows touching her is everything he’s imagined and then some. 

* * *

He wakes up the next afternoon, hangover not intense but enough to remind him he overdid it. He lays in bed a while, regretting his entire existence, and replays the few moments he got to see Raven before she and Echo left the party. Murphy had watched her from his spot on the patio where he was talking to Octavia and a few other bartenders, and Monroe had wandered over, whacking his shoulder in some kind of misguided empathy. Echo had probably filled her in. 

Raven came outside onto the deck to say goodbye to Harper and Monty, her hair damp and a little wavy. She was wearing his clothes, and she smiled so genuinely at them it was like a kick in the gut, and it all sent such a bolt of lust through him that he had gasped. Monroe had chuckled knowingly, but Octavia had looked at him curiously so he’d pretended he was clearing his throat. The last thing he needed was for her to know what was going on too. 

It’s almost two P.M. when he works up the courage to call Echo. 

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” she says as soon as she picks up. 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he sighs. “How much does your friend hate me?”

“I wouldn’t say hate, exactly. More like she’s convinced you’re a jerk. Did you really not even say you were sorry?”

“I really fucking didn’t. Hell, Echo, I was kinda trashed and then I felt bad but I didn’t know what to say. So I ended up not saying anything and then I kinda snapped at her and that pissed her off and then it just sucked.”

“At least she likes me and Monty and Harper. So she’ll probably keep coming to the restaurant. She told me how much she likes the food.”

It makes him feel better to hear it, and it reminds him he never got the answer he was looking for when it came to Echo’s intentions. 

“Are you planning on asking her out?”

Echo laughs, and for once she misunderstands him and why he wants to know. “Afraid you’re going to have to face her again, are you? Yeah, you should be! Raven wouldn’t put up with your dramatic ass, I bet. But no, I don’t think you have to worry about it. Pretty sure I’m only getting hetero vibes from her. And besides, I’ve got my eye on a tall, dark and handsome lately. His name’s Gabriel, and he works with Raven so I’ve got an in and I’m going to abuse it.”

He makes the effort to make a few comments as Echo elaborates, and while he’s not disappointed that Echo doesn’t realize he wants Raven for himself, he wishes he could figure out a way to ask if Raven’s single. But that would give him away for sure, so he keeps his mouth shut. He does learn that Raven hasn’t mentioned the flower garnishes or specific messages that she’s been getting inside her cookies, because Echo doesn’t bring them up, and there’s no way she’d keep quiet if she knew about them. Connecting a few dots that he remembers from the party and what he does discreetly ask Echo about, he also can be relatively sure no one told Raven that he’s anything other than part owner of Green Is Good. At least that’s something. 

It’ll cost him any dignity he still has left in her eyes, but maybe Monroe can give him some advice on what to do next when they work their next shift together. 

* * *

Like clockwork, ‘No Broccoli, Extra Lime’ with the smiley face shows up in his order queue on Monday, and Murphy doesn’t really think it through, just jumps at the chance to find a way to say he _is_ sorry. He grabs a fortune cookie and carefully extricates the message inside, replacing it with a handwritten slip of his own. 

_I’m really sorry I spilled ice cream all over you pt.1_

It’ll reveal who he is, but the probability of Raven thinking he’s a jerk isn’t something he can live with. He’s ruined his chances of making a good impression, and she’ll probably never be interested in him now, but he can’t let his screw ups at the party be the way things end. His gut is telling him to try again. She’s important. He just hopes she orders lunch tomorrow so he can finish explaining. 

* * *

He gets the opportunity to continue the next day, feeling giddy when her lunch order comes in again. This time there’s no smiley face after ‘No Broccoli, Extra Lime’, but instead there’s a question mark. Yeah, she’s probably shocked that her sweet and funny cookie slips have turned incredibly personal. Monroe rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t say a word when he leaves the prep area to write out another fortune cookie message.

_It’s no excuse, but I was drunk and shocked as hell to see you at my house pt.2_

* * *

_You don’t know this, but I saw you weeks ago at the restaurant - haven’t stopped thinking about you since pt.3_

* * *

It’s completely unlike her, but Raven orders lunch again on Thursday. He takes it as a good sign, that she wants to know more and doesn’t want to miss a day of his explanations. 

_So when you showed up at my house, I forgot how to act like a human being since I really like you pt.4_

* * *

On Friday, he spends part of the lunch rush on pins and needles, anxious to see Raven’s order. He won’t get to say anything to her for the next two days, and he has no idea how she took his confession. And he knows there’s a possibility that after she reads today’s message, she might stop ordering completely. But he’s got to ask. Because he’s known since the first time he saw her that he’s a goner. Even if he did fuck up spectacularly. 

_I messed up, but would you be willing to give me another chance? I promise I’ll be on my best behavior pt.5_

* * *

He goes home on Friday after pulling a double shift, no idea what Raven might be thinking of him after she saw that last plea. He checked with Harper - Raven definitely picked up her lunch herself everyday this week. But she didn’t ask about him, didn’t say anything about it to Harper at all. It’s probably for the best that he worked extra hours, since he feels exhausted and will be able to fall asleep as soon as he stumbles into his bed. But as he’s taking a shower, all he can think about is how Raven was naked in exactly the same spot almost a week ago, and he’s hard and aching in an instant. 

If it boils down to it, he’s willing to beg Echo to let him come over so he can arrange an accidentally-on-purpose meeting, apologizing in person if Raven doesn’t order on Monday. Maybe he can come up with the perfect thing to say to convince her that he’s worth the risk. He’ll think about it after he comes, already picturing Raven with streaks of ice cream running down her breasts, just waiting for him to lick her clean. 

* * *

His doorbell rings on Sunday afternoon, right in the middle of the football game. He’s not expecting anyone; had planned a do-nothing day to get his thoughts together and just relax. So when he looks through the peephole, he’s stunned to see Raven standing on his front porch. Frantically trying to smash down his hair as he glances in the mirror next to him, he’s cursing himself for not getting dressed. He’s wearing pajama pants that have tiny frying pans of bacon and eggs printed on them, for fuck’s sake. Nothing he can do about it now, and his hair is the best he can do on short notice too. He counts to three, taking a deep breath, and then he opens the door. 

“Hi,” Raven says, looking completely calm and collected. And so sexy he can barely stand it. 

“Uh, hi.” Yep, he’s real smooth. 

“I brought your clothes back.” She holds up the bag in her hand that he’s only just noticing, and he leans partially out the door to take it. Their fingers don’t touch and he immediately wants a re-do. 

“Thanks.” He studies her face for any clues on how to proceed. He’s got nothing. But then he remembers his manners. “Do you want to come in?”

“Okay.” 

Damn, she’s really not giving anything away. He closes the door behind her, feeling uncertain. His palms itch with the urge to touch her, so he rubs them discreetly on his thighs. The noise from the TV in the living room is audible in the entry, and Raven tilts her head toward the sound. 

“Are you watching the game?”

“Yeah. Do you...do you want to watch it?”

“No,” she shakes her head, and then he can see her stiffen her shoulders, like she’s determined. “Actually, I came here to ask you something. Why do you like me?”

The question catches him by surprise. If anything, he thought she would ask about the notes he’s been writing. Doesn’t matter though - at least this is something he can answer easily. 

“When I first saw you come into the restaurant to pick up your lunch, I thought you were beautiful. But then I noticed that you were kind, and had a killer smile. And I thought it was weirdly interesting that you kept ordering the same thing every day for lunch except Thursdays, even though usually it irritates me when customers tweak the menu. If we weren’t so busy, I would’ve been out front when you came each day so I could talk to you. That couldn't happen, but a few times I caught sight of you, heard you talking a little with Harper, could tell that you were friendly. I know that’s not a lot, but you made me curious about you from the start, and I wanted to get to know you better. Even though _I_ made a terrible impression at the party, you didn’t. My friends like you, even Echo, and that tells me more about the kind of person you are. I still want to get to know you better.”

“And you’ve been the one putting all those pretty vegetable flowers in my lunches?”

“Yes. All the notes in the fortune cookies were from me too.”

“Even the typed ones?” she asks, her eyebrow adorably raised. 

He nods, swallowing nervously. So far he hasn’t put his foot in his mouth, but he really can’t tell what she’s thinking at all. 

“I talked to Echo about you yesterday,” Raven informs him. “I wanted to find out if you really were drunk at your party, or if you were just giving me an excuse.”

“What did she say?” He’s not worried. Echo might complain about him but when it came down to it, they were family and she was loyal as hell. 

“She said you were definitely plastered. And that sometimes you drive her crazy but you mostly mean well and she couldn’t ask for a better friend and business partner. So that convinced me you weren’t lying. She was surprised when I asked her about the fortune cookies though.”

He can’t suppress his groan. Fuck she's never going to let him live it down. “I can only imagine what she had to say about that.”

For the first time the full force of Raven’s smile is directed at him. It feels awesome. And arousing, damn. 

“Well, she laughed for about twenty minutes straight but then she told me I should come over and talk to you today while the game was on since she would bet money you’d be home and dozing on the couch.” Raven lets her eyes flick over him, taking in the silly pajama pants, wrinkled t-shirt and bed hair. “Looks like she was spot on.”

“She does know me pretty well.” He wants to push, find out if she’s single and willing to go out with him, but Raven has been straightforward so far, and letting her lead the conversation feels like it’s been a good thing. 

“When I came over last weekend, I thought you were cute when I saw you in the backyard. And even though I knew the ice cream spill was an accident, I felt like you were rude about it afterwards, so I wrote you off as a jerk. But I didn’t know you were the same person who gave me all those fortunes and quotes and things to laugh about. Or that you came up with them all just for me.”

There’s an almost shy look in her eyes as she says it, and even though they’re both standing in the relatively small space of his entryway and already not far from each other, he steps towards her, wanting to be closer. Needing to be. 

“I did write them all just for you,” he agrees. “I liked thinking about how they would make you smile, maybe make your day better. I wanted to believe that even though I hadn’t figured out a way to talk to you yet, I was doing something to make you happy. Was I?”

Raven nods, only inches away from him. She smells fantastic, and it’s such a short distance to lower his head, barely any effort at all, and then his lips are on hers like he’s wanted ever since she first blew through the door of Green Is Good and his gut told him not to let her get away. 

It’s not sparks this time but explosions, getting bigger by the second as he crowds her against the wall, caging her in his arms and kissing her like he’ll never stop. He won’t, if he has anything to say about it. The feel of her pressed all along his body is incredible, and he tugs her chin higher, kissing her deeper as she makes a strangled little noise in her throat. Fuck, he wants to hear all her noises, swallow them all up. He doesn’t want to go slow, wants her to know he’s all in for this, for her, and it’s only after he can feel her struggle a little to breathe that he lifts his mouth away. She takes a huge gulp of air, her breasts pushing against his chest, her eyes dazed as she gazes up at him. 

“Okay,” she gasps. 

He’s not sure what she means, but that’s not stopping his hands from roaming down over her ass and back up to her hips again to pull her tighter to him. 

“Okay what?” He breathes, his voice husky from kissing her. 

Raven tilts her head to the side, giving him better access to her neck. He can take a hint, his teeth grazing along the delicate skin there as she shivers. 

“Okay you can have a second chance.”

Murphy laughs, his mouth open on her neck, the vibrations of it rippling through them both. Trusting his gut always pays off, but she’s the best reward so far, even beating out the restaurant. He has a good feeling his second chance won’t be wasted. 

  
  
  



End file.
